 
"X-MEN:
Let There Be Peace on Earth, Part 3"
Part 3: "We find the
defendant, Erik Magnus Lensherr, not guilty of murder one by
reason of insanity." Screams of anger and
hatred erupted across the courtroom at such an outrageous
verdict. No one wanted for a mutie, especially a mutie who
attacked a military base and killed dozens, to be let free; and
they especially didn't want him to be let free on a technicality
such as insanity. Only one person could
smile, but only slightly, and that was Charles Xavier. Erik
Lensherr was his long time friend. He had fought with him, and,
at one time, would have died with him. It was Charles Xavier's
testimony that allowed Erik Lensherr, Magneto, to be freed.
Magneto had killed Scott Summers, Cyclops, Charles' first X-Man,
but to him, it wasn't the Erik he knew, and that's what he told
the courts. He told them how he peeled Erik's mind away, and that
this Erik, the one sitting in front of them, silent, morose, he
was the real Erik Lensherr, an Erik Lensherr who was rational,
and who would never do such things. "It's not right,
" Warren Worthington III said, lying in bed, in pain after
his wings had to be amputated. "Why did the professor help
that madman get out of jail? He only killed Slim. And now Jean's
in shock . . . it's just not like the professor." Warren
looked towards Jean Grey, the Marvel Girl, who, upon seeing a
death as gruesome as that of Scott Summers, went into shock. "I cannot vouch
for the professor's train of thought, but when I spoke with him
last, he was saying that Magneto is a whole new person."
Hank McCoy, the Beast, rubbed his chin in contemplation. "A new person?
What, does he only kill innocent women now, rather than innocent
men and children?" Bobby Drake, Iceman, asked, wiping a
small tear from his eye. "The bastard." Maybe Magneto was a new
person . . . Then again, maybe not. "The downtown area
was rocked today, when the offices of Stryker International were
hit by a terrorist attack. Stryker International is a corporation
which has many deals with the government, one of which is the
much debated Mutant Genome Project. We go now to Trish Tilby, who
is live on the scene. Trish." "Thank you, Mike.
Police aren't releasing any information at the moment, but the
speculation going around is that this was some sort of mutant
attack. So far, though, no one has taken any responsibility for
the attack." "Hey, Bob, come
check this out!" "Huh? There
appears to be some sort of commotion going on out here. I'm gonna
move closer to check it out." "What is it,
Jim?" "It appears to be
. . . the letter X inscribed into a wall." "The hell is
this?" Pietro Maximoff, son of Magneto, screams at the
television. "Damned if I
know," Wanda, his sister, says, staring at the X inscribed
into the wall. "Pietro. Go get father, and the others who
agreed. This is a little problem . . ." "They're on their
way." " . . .
atic." Within minutes, a
number of other mutants appear in the entertainment room. "What's wrong?
" Magneto, Erik Lensherr, asks. "Look for
yourself, " Wanda says, staring still. "Yeah, so, an X,
" Shiro Yoshida, Sunfire, says, shrugging his shoulders. "Do you know what
that is?" Pietro asks, spinning Shiro towards him.
"That is a terrorist attack, on Stryker International. A
terrorist attack on the Mutant Genome Project!" "Christ, "
Bennet Du Paris mutters, "that's the place we were going to
. . ." "You think,
Bennet?" Pietro asks, red with anger. "So, then, "
Logan, the Wolverine, says, lighting up a cigar. "Who did
this?" "Certainly wasn't
any of us, " John Proudstar, Thunderbird, says. "Well, "
Wanda asks, cooly, " why did the terrorists place an X
there?" "I think it's
rather obvious, woman, " Proudstar says, slamming his fist
into a table with enough force to shatter it. "Someone is
trying to frame us!" "Are you stupid,
" Shiro asks. "How can you say that someone is trying
to frame us just because there's an X there?" "I think it's
rather obvious, " Pietro chimes in. "We're called the
X-Men. The letter X is there." "So, if a Q was
there, you'd be to blame, eh, Pietro?" Wanda asks, grinning. "The X-Men haven't
been officially active in years, folks, " Logan says,
exhaling some smoke. "No one even knows we still run around
blowing stuff up. Not even Chuckles." "And, quite
frankly, " Erik finally steps in, "I'd prefer we kept
it that way. Truthfully, we didn't commit this act. We're
innocent. We need to act it, or else someone will tell something
is up. Charles will most likely take care of any political
ramifications of this action. He will declare that there is no
proof it is a mutant attack, and then things will settle down for
awhile. We'll go about our daily lives, and act as though nothing
has happened. Understood?" Everyone nods. "Good. Now let's
break up, before someone thinks something is up." "I never would
have guessed. Wow, headmaster Lensherr and the others. I
seriously never would have guessed." "Shut up,
Chris." "Go to hell,
Sally." "Now, Vincente,
waffle purple agent surro, mernie bleg." "Dammit, Chris,
stop using your frickin' powers! It's really annoying! God, as if
having Sally talk regular wasn't bad enough." "Well, she was
being a bitch, Vin." "Ha! Bitch, good
one, Chris!" "Shut up,
Jesse." "Blah blah. Shut
up, Jesse. I ought to pem nub iggy ba." "Argh, stop
it!" "Anyway, go on
about Maggie, and all." "Well, I snuck
into the building as a gas, and spied on them the whole
time." "Yeah, the plan
was for you to get into the teacher's dorm. Now, what happened
while you were there?" "Gles der bippy
bop." "Could you turn
that damned thing off first?" "Done. Go
on." "Anyway, they were
talking about how the X-Men are still alive or something. And
that Maggie-poo would get Professor Xavier to do some stuff . . .
or something." "Damn you and your
limited attention span!" "Sorry, Chris. I
was too busy staring at Wanda's ti . . ." "<ahem>" "Sorry, Sal."
"Say, did you see
anyone naked?" "No, Jesse.
Actually yes." "Who?" "<coughcoughDrakecough>" " . . . Drake?
Bobby Drake?" The trio bursts into
laughter. "Yeah, laugh, why
don't you?" "So, what are we
gonna do about this?" "As the school
punks it's our job to exploit them in some way." "Let's see how
this works out for now." "Okay." "But we have to
swear!" "Fine, fine. I,
Sally Blevins, swear." "I, Chris
Aaronson, swear." "Same here." "Say it,
Jesse!" "I, Jesse freakin'
Aaronson swear!" "And I, the
Cher-like Vincente, do swear." "Cher-like?" "Ya know, one
name." "Ugh." "You could have at
least said Prince-like." A few hours later. "She's up and
waiting for more, and I know he's only looking to score, and it
is way too unhealthy, often . . ." "Tonedeaf!" "Hmm? Oh, sorry
about that, Dougles, my boy." "Didn't I tell you
not to call me Dougles, Bill?" "Yep. Didn't do a
damned bit of good." "Go figure." Willaim Sardar stands
in front of a mirror in his room, slapping some cologne onto his
face. Behind him, his roommate, Doug Ramsey, sits on his bed,
staring. William tugs on his shirt, trying his best to make
himself look presentable. "Uh . . . hot
date?" Doug asks, laughing somewhat. "Yep." "Who?" "Paige
Guthrie." "Uh-huh. Wait. 'No
Action Paige'? You've gotta be kidding?!" "What's that mean?
No action Paige?" "Let's just say,
people have tried dating her. Nothing. Zip, Zilch, Nada." "People're
probably just afraid of her brother, dude." "No, people have
tried, she doesn't give out." "The problem is
what, though? My interest in her is slightly above platonic. I
don't just want to get into her panties." "Of course not,
Bill." "God, Doug. Why's
someone as smart as you so damned perverted?" "I'm not
perverted. I'm just horny." "Yeah, well, just
keep that thing away from me." "Believe me, it's
not aiming at you." "So, who do you
have your eyes set on, Dougles." Doug rolls his eyes,
and then smiles. "Kitty Pryde." "Pryde . . . Pryde
. . . Pryde? Oh, the Jewish girl." " . . . " "Don't take that
as an offense. Just my way of remembering people. You, you'd be
the pretentious guy who happens to live with me." "Pretentious? I'll
show you pretentious, you snide little jerk-off!" "You'll have to do
it later. I have a date." William breathes on his hand,
smells it, and then walks out of the room. "At least try to
get to first base. She seems to like you!" "Kiss it!" "Kiss me!" "Oh, Amelia.
You're always thinking about intimacy. Don't you ever think about
work?" "Work, Charles?
There're times for work. Now's not one. So kiss me already!" "Yes, I would, but
I . . .mmrmph . . ." Amelia Xavier pushes
herself away from her husband, and smiles at him. "So, was
that a good jump start?" "Yes, it was
indeed." "Good, I . .
." Amelia is interrupted by a rampant knocking at the door.
She stands, and rolls her eyes. "You may enter,
" Charles says, straightening his shirt out. The doorknob turns, and
the door opens. From behind the cover of the door, Warren
Worthington III, the once high flying Angel and now part financer
of the school, enters. "Sorry to bother you, Charles. But
there seems to be a little problem." "Of what sort,
Warren?" "Well, there're
some people from the FBI here to see you." |
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